


The Itch

by ProfoundlyApologetic



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-06
Updated: 2015-03-06
Packaged: 2018-03-16 15:26:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3493403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProfoundlyApologetic/pseuds/ProfoundlyApologetic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean wakes up with a very powerful urge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Itch

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first, possibly only, ficlet. Be kind ! Sorry if I messed up any of the setup. This is very new to me.

Dean awoke with a start. It had been the same deal once a week for the past few weeks. Same day, same time, same feeling.

The first time it happened he brushed it off, turned over, and tried to go back to sleep. But the feeling simply grew and grew, and before long he grabbed a few things from his dresser and went creeping down the hall. Even as he slowly gave in, accepting what must be done, this desire continued to consume him. He slipped into Cas’ room and watched as his chest slowly rose and fell. That will change soon, Dean thought. He hoped for a moment of clarity, a voice within his head that would tell him to stop, but with fists clenched so tight they might begin to bleed soon, he made his move.

It was slow, gentle. They took their time and explored. Afterwards, Dean felt guilty. As he slumped back to his room he silently shamed himself for, in his mind, ruining Cas. Neither one of them mentioned it at all. Cas pretended it had never happened and Dean began to think it was simply a very vivid dream.

Until the following Thursday. Once more he had awoken suddenly. This time, however, he had a plan. He got out a few toys and set to work. Once, twice, three times… And nothing. It wasn’t enough. The urges would not go away. With each passing moment Dean got more and more frustrated until finally he slammed his fist into his pillow, angrily got up, and began storming down the hall stark naked. He didn’t care if he was heard, or seen, he just wanted it over with. He kicked Cas’ door open and stomped over to the bed. Tossing aside the blade a confused and startled Cas had instinctively reached for, he grabbed a chunk of the angel’s hair and straddled him. Cas immediately shifted his body and latched onto Dean’s hips. Glaring at one another, Cas’ fingers dug into Dean - whose grip had only tightened - and they began without a single word. Their movements were fluid, fast, and aggressive. They didn’t stop or slow down until Dean was wholly satisfied. Afterwards he would storm back to his room, just as pissed off as he was before.

They still didn’t mention it. This time, though, Cas would periodically rub the back of his head and glance at Dean with a soft smile upon his face. Dean, however, only felt more guilt - less than before, and more like an annoying scratch that simply would not heal, but guilt nevertheless.

And then today happened. Dean sighed while staring up at the ceiling. “You know what,” he said aloud, “FUCK IT. Just fuck it.”

Walking into Cas’ room and seeing him sprawled out naked, blanket covering nothing but his right arm, Dean couldn’t help but smile. As he climbed into bed, Cas stirred.

"Hello, Dean."

Dean kissed Cas, long and hard. They rubbed their bodies against one another, shifting from one side to another. “I need you, Cas” Dean whispered. He could feel Cas’ head pressing against him as he rolled on top. As he gently bit Cas’ neck he began moving his hips in small circular motions, feeling every inch of Cas’ cock rubbing against him.

He reached over and stopped dead. “Crap, we’re out of lube.”

"Already?" Cas said, confused

"We have to go get some. Now." Dean stated, disregarding Cas’ question.

"In Ancient Greece they would use olive oil, we could alw—-" Cas started.

"No way in Hell are you putting oil in my ass" Dean shot at him, "And don’t even suggest Crisco."

"I saw the Pizza Man use his spit" Cas suggested.

Dean, looking offended, replied “That’s disgusting. Even if you could get enough spit to coat your eight-in-a-half inch dick, you aren’t shoving it in me. It’d chafe.”

"Dean, I don’t think a half an inch is that important." Cas said with a smirk.

"Tell me that when it’s getting slammed into your ass! Now put your dick away, we’re going to the store" Dean said, slapping Cas on the chest and hopping up.

An hour later Cas and Dean trekked through the front door, both looking very disheveled, and Dean looking like he could murder. “How the fuck could three places just run out!”

"At least we got some," Cas replied, hoping he would calm down a bit.

"Shut your cake hole and—-" Dean stopped and stared ahead, a bit wide eyed.

Sam, a bit startled at the sudden appearance of the two, was sitting at a table with a small pile of ancient looking books in front of him. “Hey, it’s a bit early, what… Uhm, what’s the matter?”

Dean, catching his feet again and regaining his aggression, “You know what, cram it Sam! Cas, get your ass in bed. Sam, don’t even start.”

As they walked by, Cas gave Sam a small wave and smile, while Dean simply glared at the back of Cas’ head. Sam just sat there, confused for a moment before getting back to researching. That lasted all of two minutes before he heard what he thinks was a chair being slammed against a wall. Fearing Dean had snapped, he cautiously started walking to Cas’ room. As he approached the door something slammed so hard against it a crack formed, then he heard Dean say, “Don’t tell me you’re pussying out now, Cas, fucking pound me!” Quickly followed by an odd combination of a yelp and a moan.

Sam, moving as fast as he could, bolted to the nearest bar to drown the memory of hearing that.


End file.
